The Distant Crown
The rain hit the glass. Hard. Cold. Mara pressed her forehead against the window. The city below was a blur of gray and neon. Wet asphalt. Red taillights. Streaks of white from oncoming headlights. She did not blink. She could not blink. Behind her, the apartment was silent. Too silent. The clock on the microwave ticked. Tick. Tick. Tick. "Hey." The voice was rough. Scraped. Mara turned. David...
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